


Fire!

by KitKaos



Category: Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman, Superman (Christopher Reeve Movies), Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman Returns (2006)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Elseworlds, F/M, Gen, Origin Story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 07:29:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6945646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitKaos/pseuds/KitKaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Clark had discovered his love for music at an early age?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire!

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, this little monster was written in German and has been sitting on my hard drive for quite a while now.
> 
> All I can say is that I had loads of fun writing this little piece. Of course, there were times when I had to fight for every word, there were times when I rewrote whole scenes up to three times completely, and most of the time there were heaps more research than actual writing – but at no other point in the process did I want to work on any other story.
> 
> Thing is, the prompt I got was „FIRE“ and the first thing that came to my mind was the 1968 hit song by Arthur Brown – and so, pretty quickly the idea to do something with music crystallized (even though it has been a long time since I last played an instrument)... ;)
> 
> And if you made it to this point in my ramblings, I'd also like to recommend my personal playlist for this fic:  
>  _~ „Float“ by Flogging Molly_  
>  ~ „Beat it“, the cover version by Fall-Out Boy  
> ~ „This Ain't A Scene“ by Fall-Out Boy  
> ~ „Mayenzeit“ by Schelmish  
> ~ „The General“ by Dispatch
> 
> Regarding the 'Verse of the story – I originally wanted to write something that could be recognized as Reeveverse, but soon enough the story developed in a completely different direction (one big advantage of this is that I can let it all play out in the present). So this AU is probably closest to the comic-book version(s) of Superman, although you will most probably also find influences from L&C and maybe even the movies.
> 
> And last but not least, for the original version of this story I had an amazing, fantastic and truly patient beta – my own personal good soul: Magss. It is thanks to her continuous encouragement and tireless reading and re-reading that the story even exists. Thank you so much, Magss! *hug*
> 
> Any kind of comment or criticism – good and bad! – is always appreciated. But now, enjoy! :D

**Fire!**

**(Now's your time, burn your mind,  
you're falling far too far behind.)**

 

-°- ♪♪♫♪ ♪♪ ♪♪♫♪ ♪♪ ♪♪♫♪ ♪♪ -°-

 It is a small sensation! Just named this year's Newcomers of the Year by Rolling Stone Magazine, _Fire!_ have just been officially confirmed to be headlining the upcoming Summer Stage Festival in Metropolis. Three concerts have been announced, spread out over the two festival weeks of Metropolis' Centennial Park gone haywire. So the band's American fans can see Art, Azzie, CK and Jeff on stage once more before the four of them will go on a well-deserved break from touring and back into the studio...

-°- ♪♪♫ ♫♫♪ ♪ -°-

„For the last time, Luce – no!“ Lois' tart voice was meant to hopefully, finally, get that stupid idea out of her younger sister's head. Her eyes wandered from the driver to the cab's windshield and the heavy traffic in front of them. Just great!

For a second, she seemed to have silenced Lucy on the other end of the line. But she could almost see the determined look on her face when she tried again, _“But Lo, this is gonna be so much fun. Like in the old days. The Lane sisters are out taking on the world again – you and me...”_

Lois rolled her eyes and let herself sink further into the worn backseat. “And your husband and you guys's small son... All the more reason you won't get me to come, Luce. You know that.” Why couldn't Lucy just accept that she really didn't feel like seeing a mediocre teenage band who were only famous because they had more connections than brain cells? She could be so pigheaded sometimes!...

“ _Oh, come on, sis. Sammy's been asking if Aunt Lois is coming too for days now.”_

Lois sighed deeply. Why did the little one have to have such terribly big, cute chocolate-brown eyes – and even give her that patented puppy look in her mind?! For the umpteenth time, Lois swore to never have kids herself. “What's so great about them anyway, that all of you... Oh, crap, got another call. I'll call you back, Luce.”

When Lois thumbed the _End Call_ button and looked at her wildly vibrating cell – as if it could guess who was calling – Lois frowned. _Perry._ The Chief didn't ever call her just after she had left the Planet. This had to be a matter of life and death.

Just for a second Lois closed her eyes and steeled herself for this call. She took a deep breath, then punched the _Answer_ button. “Hello?”

“ _Lois, you have another interview for tonight,”_ her editor-in-chief immediately cut to the chase. _“Hope you didn't have any other plans yet.”_

Silently thanking her editor-in-chief for this perfect reason to finally tell Lucy she definitely couldn't make it tonight – and without having a bad conscience about cancelling. “No problem at all, Chief. Who is it? I'll take them down no matter what,” she asked enthusiastically; Mad Dog Lane was back.

At the other end, she could hear Perry grumble approvingly. _“Those musicians... What's the name of that band again?”_

Lois hardly dared to ask. She feared the worst. “ _Fire!_?” she ventured hesitantly.

“ _Yes, that's them._ Fire! _. Tonight at six, Hatch Shell backstage area...”_

Lois was seething when she interrupted. “Chief, you can't be serious about this! I'm an investigative journalist, not one of those MTV bunnies who don't know how to even spell journalism.”

“ _Lois!”_ Perry cut her off sharply. _“Grant just had to call in sick with food poisoning. Connor's on maternity leave. Lombard's in Gotham... Take Jimmy with you to take pictures.”_

Just as Lois wanted to respond, he hung up. For a long moment, Lois couldn't do anything but stare at her cell, frowning... “Just great! Can this day get any worse?” she muttered darkly to herself.

She chanced another glance out the window. Traffic was still at an agonizingly slow stop-and-go. For now it seemed like she was stuck here, and so Lois braced herself and dialed Lucy's number. Better to just get this humiliation over with...

“ _Troupe house,”_ her little sister answered the phone cheerily.

“Hi, Luce. Me again. Looks like I will be coming with you guys tonight.” Lois was well aware that her voice was lacking even the slightest trace of enthusiasm, but she just couldn't bring herself to care at this very moment.

And her sister's excitement as well as her gloating made pretty much up for it anyway. “I knew you wouldn't let Sammy down. Thanks, sis!”

Lois couldn't help a wry smile. “You've got Perry to thank for this. Article about this band. I feel like I've been sent to the tabloid front as punishment for something I didn't do.”

“ _But, Lo, that's great. Man, what'd I give for that chance... Okay, so let's say we meet there a little before seven?”_ Lois could vividly picture Lucy beaming at her through the phone. How she just wished she could see all of this as positively. Just what had Perry been thinking...

Quite suddenly, there was some movement in the traffic around her.

“Oh, Luce...” Almost forgot something. “I hope it's okay if I bring Jimmy, too?”

Three... two... one... Lucy's impish little grin was easily recognizable, even over the phone. _“Of course that's okay. So, this is your what... fourth date?”_

Why had it been obvious that her curious little sister would ask that? “Third. Our third date,” she answered, keeping her voice as neutral as possible. The third date with a considerably younger man. Who was also her colleague... Lois still wasn't completely convinced whether this was such a good idea...

But she couldn't follow this train of thought for long as the cab came to an abrupt halt. Even without having opened the door yet, Lois' nose had already filled with the smell of acrid smoke.

“Luce, listen, I gotta go. I'll see you tonight. I know it doesn't sound like it, but I'm really looking forward to seeing the three of you.”

She rushed to pay the cabbie, then got out, pen and notepad in hand.

Just a moment later she found herself not far from a building ablaze with fire. People were running to and fro all around her. Sirens resounding. Shouting. Buzzing. And, through it all, the unearthly, steady crackling of fire...

-°- ♫♫♫♪♫♪♫ ♫♫♫♪♫♪♫ -°-

Slowly but surely, the noise of sirens and screams was dying down. The agitated fuss was subsiding. The fire fighters were already rolling up lengths of fire-hose; faces soot-black, they were running through the dirty puddles still mirroring the flashing blue lights. There was nothing more for them to do in this building.

Lois once more let her gaze wander down the street, then studied her notes again. She had talked to the men in charge, both with the firefighters and the police, to one of the paramedics on the scene and to the janitor. The burnt building had been a children's home. It seemed that the fire had started in one of the common rooms; whether it was arson or carelessness nobody wanted to tell her. The necessary analyses were supposed to take a few more hours. The orphanage, which had been home to 25 children between five and sixteen, had practically burned to the ground. But, miraculously, no one had been seriously hurt.

For the children, though, it was a heavy blow; they would probably be divided up among other orphanages. Alone, without their friends or their toys. The fire fighters had actually tried to save some of those toys from the flames, but they had soon had to give up if they didn't want to die in the fire themselves. And so, the sad remains of what these children had once called theirs sat abandoned in shiny puddles: a set of Monopoly, some card games and several comic books. One of these was blown open by the wind, just as Lois' eyes fell on it. What an irony of fate – on the open page, the image of that ridiculous Super... something – Lois couldn't care less about the name she didn't know – was shouting, proclaiming loudly, _**I**_ _will help you all!_

The hero's proclamation put a wry smile on Lois' lips. “Well, you can't find this kind of hero anywhere but in comic books...”

Then she hurried away – she had a deadline to beat!

 

-°- ♫♫♫♪♫♪♫ ♫♫♫♪♫♪♫ -°-

 

 **SPIN: Art, you just finished the tour to promote your second album,** _**Matchlight Danger Revelation** _ **. How does that feel?**

Art: It feels awesome. It all feels so great, to see this whole wave of enthusiasm and verve and all the buzz and support when we're on stage. Our fans really are the best we could ever wish for. We know we're good – but without all these people listening to our music and liking it, we'd never have come this far. It's just, you know what you've been working for this hard.

**SPIN: This time, the venues were bigger than your last tour, weren't they? Does that make a big difference, especially regarding interacting with the fans?**

Art: When we're on stage, the fans know we want to and will deliver the best concert possible. No matter how big the stage, the club or hall.

**SPIN: So did anything change about your concerts themselves?**

Art: We're constantly getting better and better. (laughs) Seriously, though, we of course progress, musically and professionally. The fans have to be sure it's really us they want to see and hear and that's the feeling we want to give them. We experiment a lot, giving these people something worth their money and their loyalty towards us as a band. For instance, the bigger venues give us the possibility for more awesome pyrotechnics.

**SPIN: And beside your awesome sound, you're famous for your pyro shows, after all. Tell us, what's the secret of your success?**

Art: We just rock, what a question. (laughs)

**SPIN: How would you describe your style at this very point in the band's history?**

Art: We're still experimenting a lot with different style elements. That's what we've always done and that won't change any time soon. We like having our very own style and sound. All of us can play several instruments. We're four people, all exposed to all kinds of different influences. Why not make use of this? It would become very boring very quickly if everything sounded the same.

**SPIN: That's true. Let's just quickly talk about the charity work you're doing. And you're doing quite a lot of that. Just recently, you actually set up a foundation of your own – how did this come about?**

Art: Our foundation _Beyond the Impossible_ 's current focus is on social projects to help orphaned children. This has been a particular concern of ours for a long time now, as it's also a matter of personal importance for CK _[N.B.: Fire!'s bassist]_. Well, and now there was a chance to turn this plan into reality.

**SPIN: Which we can only wish you all the best for the future for. Art, thank you very much for this great and interesting interview.**

Art: Thank you.

 

-°- ♫ ♫♪♪♪ ♫ ♫♪♪♪ -°-

 

For a moment, Lois just stood, watching the band from the entrance to the small room. The four of them were already here and talking quietly. As much as she tried, Lois couldn't make out what they were talking about, though. The sound-proof foam panelling did seem to swallow more than just musicians' loud noise.

She tried to memorize every detail. Yes, maybe she wasn't all that happy with this interview that Perry had to assign her of all people – but neither was she anything but a pro. She'd show her editor-in-chief what she'd do with such an assignment!

On the couch as well as some comfortable-looking chairs, around a low table, three men and a woman were chatting amiably:

In an easy chair to the back left, sat a rather lanky man with pointy chin and tousled, dark blond locks, keen eyes and seemingly never-resting fingers and hands. He was wearing fringed baggy jeans and a black Metallica t-shirt. Drummer “Crazy” Jeff Murdock.

Not quite in front of him, to Lois' left as well, she recognized Arthur “Art” Dent, the band's vocalist. He seemed ready to rock in his stage outfit: tight jeans and a simple charcoal waistcoat. Despite his narrow, androgynous frame, he had enough presence and glimmer about him to easily fill his corner of the room. His almond eyes – accented by a fine line of kohl, Lois noticed – were resting almost arrogantly on the only woman in the room.

Guitarist Azriel “Azzie” Brown was sitting on the couch, across the table from Art, and was returning his look in kind. She was of petite build, with luscious blonde locks and the face of a fairy. This stood in stark contrast with her dress, consisting of a long grey tank top with a sequined silver scarf, stonewashed jeans hot pants, knee-high black boots, as well as large silver earrings and several rings in black and silver. Lois was reminded of her colleague Catherine Grant a bit, even though her gestures and facial expressions seemed mellower, less coquettish, less calculating.

Right next to her on the sofa was the band's bassist, Clark “CK” Kent – tall, quiet, intelligent blue eyes and a fiery red mop of hair. He was wearing fringed, stonewashed jeans over ankle-high sneakers, a black t-shirt saying “Sad Vacation”, a plain silver ring on both hands, and black sweatbands on both his wrists.

Faces you knew from the press.

The research Lois had been able to do on this short notice had, in her opinion, been quite thorough. All right, maybe not that thorough; she was glad she had managed to have a look at the band's official website with its short band bio and some pictures on her phone.

Still, even then there had been a couple of surprising facts to her, although she'd never admit this openly. For example, all four band members were in their mid-to-end-twenties. About her age, partly even a bit older – while never looking it in most of their pictures, courtesy of Photoshop.

Another surprise she had read was that _Fire!_ had already been around for over seven years. Which meant they were quite experienced – and thus probably had also had to cope with some measure of disappointment. They weren't one of these assembly-line casted bands, as Lois had originally thought. So maybe they did have more talent and skill than Lois thought they did – at least musically, as musicians usually didn't have much else on their mind anyway...

Well, there was only one way to find out! Lois smoothed down her smart pinstripe suit again. Subtly cleared her throat to get the band's attention, and stepped into the room. “Lois Lane, _Daily Planet_.”

Two pairs of eyes came to rest on her almost instantly – Art was eyeing here with a guarded look; and Jeff was smiling at her, politely but expectantly.

The other two, sitting on the couch, had been putting their heads together for a short while now and seemed not to have so much as noticed Lois. Again, she cleared her throat, less subtly now and very deliberately in the direction of Azzie and CK. How dared they just ignore her? So they didn't need any good publicity, did they? – Impolite musician-folks!

Eventually, Azzie gave CK a quick kiss on the cheek and, with an apologetic smile, turned to face Lois. “Sorry, Miss Lane, but that was important.”

Lois smiled back just as neutrally and politely. “Of course.” _Riiiight..._ The petite maneater's handshake was unexpectedly firm.

When CK finally turned toward Lois, she thought she noticed him blink irritatedly and somehow back away for just a short moment. As if she had caught him right in the act of... something... The next instant, though, he also shook hands with her, giving her a friendly smile and a look of complete professionalism. Maybe she had just been imagining things...

She sat down elegantly in the last vacant chair before she got out her dictaphone, turning it on. “So, let's start then. Azzie, you are the only woman in this band – how do you feel about this? What's it like?”

Lois knew her most polite smile was firmly on her lips. The last thing she wanted was to conduct one of those run-of-the-mill pop magazine interviews – so, no warm-up questions, no unnecessary niceties. She was an investigative reporter, just to let everyone get that.

And for one long moment, they seemed to very much get it. Azzie looked surprised that this first question had been addressed at her of all people, but eventually she answered, “I think that if I were the only guy in a band with three women, I'd have more of a problem.” Her lips curved in a small, mischievous grin and she turned to her band mates. “Right, boys?”

“Hey, so I now know what I'll do should I ever be fed up with you guys,” Art said, although Lois could clearly see his eyes twinkle with mischief. As well as the amused looks of the other three. When Art turned back to her again, Lois thought she had just seen him wink at her. Or had she?... Anyway, she would not let herself get distracted by any of that. “You have to know, Miss Lane, Azzie's the bandleader. That pretty much balances things out – and, well, us three guys, she has us practically dancing to her tune.”

“I see, interesting...” Lois tried to keep her sarcasm out of her voice. Musicians really all seemed to be cut from the same cloth – she didn't even want to know what kind of wild orgies those four were throwing in private. Didn't that guitarist slut have any decency at all?! And a woman like her was calling herself an emancipated woman of the 21st century, and was probably seen as role model by many of the young girls out there!

She quickly jotted down a few keywords before carefully formulating her next question. Again, her question went to Azzie. “As bandleader, the band's fate is in your hands then. Are you satisfied with the current developments?”

“Of course; who wouldn't be? Although most things are handled very democratically among us,” the blonde added. Was she trying to justify herself here?

At this point, Jeff interjected, “We do make practically all our decisions collectively and unanimously. It's only if it's a tight decision that Azzie has the final say. And she sees to it that all of us are on time.” He grinned. “Reminds us of deadlines, appointments, and so on. She's just, well, let's say she's the heart of this band...”

“But to get back to my question now...” Lois tried to specifically address the guitarist again.

It was Art who now seemed to want to address the issue. Lois had to hand it to the blonde – she had trained her boy-toys well. “I think I'm speaking on behalf of all of us when I say that we're extremely grateful and just thrilled to be here today. That all the work has panned out. We couldn't have wished for much more than all we've achieved over the last year – and this is only the beginning. We still have a lot more planned.”

Even though inside Lois was shuddering with disgust about the evident inner workings of this band, what Art had just voiced was an attitude she could definitely relate to – even though she didn't know what kind of chances this band had, realistically. They did seem to be pretty confident of their talent... “And how do you see this especially in relation to your music, which actually has, on occasion, been described as rather idiosyncratic?”

Art seemed to have warmed up now. “We still don't want to be pigeonholed that easily by anyone. We know what we're doing. All this categorization is pretty much dated anyway, if you ask me. And we're constantly evolving; so why should we still make the same music tomorrow as we did yesterday?”

“So you don't like playing your old songs?”

“On the contrary. Our old stuff's always fun to play, but...” For a moment, Art seemed to be at a loss for words.

Jeff filled in for him before Lois could intervene. “But of course it's always interesting and appealing to us to try out new sounds and, also, new instruments. For our last album, you know, the studio was suddenly filling up with just about all different kinds of things we found at home – that was just amazing.” She could virtually see the drummer drifting off into fond memories...

“So, then, writing your songs is a collaborative creative process?” All skepticism aside, this seemed like quite a compelling concept to Lois.

“Well, um, often CK's the one writing our songs...” Jeff looked expectantly at his band mate, Lois' eyes following his.

-°- ♫ -°-

Clark suddenly noticed everyone looking at him. Even the reporter – had she noticed him staring at her lips? The slight crinkling of the tip of her nose when she was asking a question? The fire in her eyes whenever she put her snide sarcasm aside for a moment?

He quickly closed his mouth and averted his eyes. Watched his right hand playing with the rings on his left. Felt heat creeping up his cheeks...

When it dawned on him that he better answer, say something. He looked back up – incredible, Miss Lane truly had long lashes framing her expressive eyes... What was it that he had just wanted to say? What was the question again? A small embarrassed cough, to gain some more time to think.

“So you're the one responsible for most of the band's songs.” There it was again, the sarcasm weaving through her otherwise warm alto, as the reporter was stepping in yet again. “What's first – the lyrics or the melody? And where do you get your ideas from?” She seemed impatient. How long had he been stalling for a coherent answer already?

Whatever... He made himself nod. He had answered this question often enough not to have to think too hard about it. “What's first varies a lot. Depends pretty much on the ideas... Often, the best ideas pop up in connection with people. I like taking walks. Watching people. Or on tour, in strange cities...”

 _How eloquent, Kent!_ He could have kicked himself right then.

-°- ♪ -°-

The bassist spoke in a very controlled tone of voice. Quiet, reticent, reserved – but melodic.

When, at the end of his decidedly minimalist answer, he smiled, Lois didn't really know why but she returned it. It was just contagious... and it looked good on him – at least as long as Lois didn't have that creepy feeling of him constantly staring at her... Though he could be a little more talkative – like this, it was quite hard to quote him directly. Besides, Lois hated it when she had to pry stupidly insignificant, irrelevant details out of her interview partners for even more irrelevant articles...

A quick glance at her watch, though, told her that their time was almost up, so she decided to ask another, final question: “What do the four of you like best about life as musicians?” She looked at each of them in turn, smiling, already looking forward to getting back to her substantial, meaningful and world-changing articles.

Astonishingly, it was CK who answered her in a firm voice. “To be able to help. Without question.”

Art stepped in to explain when his band mate didn't seem willing to say more. “As a band as well as public figures we're lucky enough to have greater influence than most people. And in this vein, we've made charity work pretty much our band baby.” The others nodded in agreement.

This answer and the consensus she could see on the topic did take Lois by surprise. She didn't quite want to believe it – after all, she knew there were enough spin doctors recommending charity work to celebrities solely for publicity purposes. But studying the four musicians' faces, they either had to be extremely good actors – or they really were serious about it...

It seemed like they wanted to elaborate, tell her more, but right then the door opened and a short, middle-aged man entered. He appeared oddly out of place in his rather eccentric clothing: a dark Hawaiian shirt with a black-and-white scarf around his neck and the metal chain of a pocket watch leading from one of the button holes to his breast pocket; underneath, some kind of black kilt over tight-fitting black pants and white patent-leather sneakers; on his nose a pair of Lennon-like shades, and on his head a bowler hat. Yet, it felt like he belonged exactly here and now. He had an aura of authority about him, and Lois assumed the man before her probably was _Fire!_ 's manager.

“I apologize for the interruption, Miss Lane,” he immediately addressed her, shaking hands. “My name's Mxyzptlk. It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person. Unfortunately I will have to steal these four right now in order to warm up for the show...”

 

-°- ♫ ♫♪♪♪ ♫ ♫♪♪♪ -°-

 

A bit of swing, a bit of folk, quite a bit of it unplugged, a lot of rock and catchy tunes – that's how one might describe _Matchlight Danger Revelation_ in one sentence. _Fire!_ 's second album keeps the promise the first made.

The opener – _Lies and Truth_ , a mix of powerful alternative and easy ska – already reflects the concept for the whole album: driving independent alternative rock with some well-placed stylistic breaks. Some of the highlights include songs like the cryptic-groovy _Chasing Ted_ ; _Spellslip_ , reminiscent of _The Curfew_ 's big days; or the intricate acoustic number _Fill Me In_. As a special treat, there's also another surprisingly successful, newly arranged cover version of _Arthur Brown_ 's 1968 classic, _Fire,_ as a bonus track.

We can also look forward to the range of instruments used as especially _Matchlight Danger Revelation_ presents all four of the band's members as musically versatile and flexible – one can find passages for bodhran, cello, didgeridoo, trumpet, saxophone and even classic harp. As with the first album, most songs were written by Clark Kent, although two of these in collaboration (Brown/Kent), and one song – _Commentary_ , a definitive insider tip – was penned by the writing duo Dent/Brown.

Yet again this band, who just won't stay put every time you think you have them figured out, has succeeded in creating an impressively compelling and refreshingly entertaining compilation of songs.

 

-°- ♫♫♪♫♫♪ ♪ -°-

 

Clark was supposed to have gotten rid of this old habit of scanning their audience, of people watching while on stage. Pretty much ever since they had started playing bigger stages like this one.

At the memory of how often he had hit a wrong note because of it, he sighed inwardly. Sometimes, whenever he was left with too much time to himself, he'd think back to people in colourful T-shirts, bearing words such as “Heroine” or “Boxes, etc.” And he'd wonder what their lives looked like... What kind of boxes they lived in, what kind of boxes they surrounded themselves with... The heroes and heroines of everyday life...

A dull, sloppy tone at the slapping part. That had him return with a jolt to here and now, concentrating on his bass guitar, his fingers flying nimbly over the strings of his Rickenbacker. Very much aware of the vibrations from his fingertips all the way to his bellybutton.

“ _... Three – The one I never should have known_  
Talk to me and it all blurs  
I have this condition, wasn't born this way  
Fading, floating, darkness is here  
Weird dreams – a rhapsody in red  
Will I ever wake up again...” 

Still... Still, Clark noticed his eyes drifting toward the audience, searching for _her_. Beyond the blinding lights on stage that, in contrast to his band mates, had never bothered him. In the crowd, which by now had grown to remarkable size. It was no problem for him to make out every detail of even the most far away people in the audience – although he had learned a long time ago that this was anything but “normal”...

There! There she was! More or less at the centre of the crowd. The fiery reporter from earlier. Lane, Lois Lane. Of the _Daily Planet_. She had her arms crossed and her face turned toward a dark-skinned young boy sitting on his... probably his father's shoulders and happily bopping along to the music. She seemed to be in deep discussion with the boy, skeptically listening to his words. The dark waves of her hair were grazing the fair, soft skin of her collarbone with each spirited move of her head...

“ _... What will you find one day_  
When you're not looking  
They're chasing Ted tonight  
More than a simple game...” 

Clark all but missed his cue.

 _Chasing Ted_ was even penned by him, so he should know this song in his sleep. It was one of their songs for which, besides playing bass, he also sang background vocals. A quick sideways glance to Azzie told him that his slip-up hadn't gone unnoticed.

But his eyes were already picking out Lois Lane in the crowd of their own accord. And met hers directly. For one long moment, he thought his heart would give out. Exploded with the colourful fireworks above him.

“ _... Five – Getting out of my lonely corner_  
It's not the best, but I will live  
Someone to live for – a goal to reach  
New hope, new life, all the same  
I was discovered here  
Never thought it happens...” 

Was it these sort of moments that led other musicians to take groupies with them up to their hotel room? Art always did assert that he loved each and every single one in his own way... But even so, there were enough stories of musicians... Clark himself had never had any interest in groupies. Sure, it did boost one's ego immensely. But he had quickly found that he wasn't the type for this sort of life, for that sort of relationship.

Back in college, back when _Fire!_ had just started being serious about their musical career, he had met a girl at one of those battle of the bands events. A friend of Azzie's... Lori – long, flowing dark hair, clear azure eyes and a sparkling, infectious laugh. They had had a good time that evening. Had joked, bantered, laughed, had bonded over favourite bands and shared interests. She had admired him a little... So one thing had led to another. And eventually to a one-night stand. He had been more than ashamed of what he'd done the next morning – he didn't even have the excuse of too much alcohol.

Since then, all he had ever wanted was to play music.

“ _... What will you find one day_  
When you're not looking  
They're chasing Ted tonight  
More than a simple game...” 

Until now...

The butterfly tendrils of that pleasantly unpleasant feeling spreading throughout his body reminded him a bit of his youth. Of his time with Lana. Lana, for whom he would have done anything back then. Lana, who had never been able to fully accept him. Lana Lang, who had made him what he was today... And yet his head kept telling him that it was different with Lois Lane – which seemed crazy considering he really didn't know her.

He was watching her, wondering if maybe the boy was hers – Clark's heart clenched at the thought. At closer inspection, he could even find some similarities between the boy and her... But no! She had been introduced as _Miss_ Lane, that meant she was not married. Clark breathed a sigh of relief... Or did it? Damn, he just had to see her again. Meet her again. Get to know her... Maybe even more?...

His fingertips sped up even more, effortlessly sliding over the thick strings. With dreamlike precision, he finished the riff. Heard the familiar bang of the pyrotechnics going off beside him... He took a few steps forward, closer to the edge of the stage. Then, a new song. _Less_...

But would she even accept him for what he was? A musician, a dreamer... an outsider, a freak. A man who had never felt so at home as in his music or at his parents' farm – and whose actual home was somewhere else completely. Who only felt – wanted to feel – like he belonged here, but could never really belong, as much as he tried...? Lana hadn't been able to do it, however much she had given him.

“ _... Useless_  
Fearless  
Boundless...” 

Yet again a wrong note. Feedback screeching from the amp right behind him... Clark grimaced. From the corner of his eye he saw Azzie making her way toward him; her graceful fingers nimbly tormenting the strings of her Gretsch, but her eyes practically shooting fire. She was nestling up close against him, writhing lasciviously without missing a single note, a wicked little grin on her full lips. Bent toward him. Clark playing along. Fan service... He knew what to do well enough by now.

To the crowd it would look like she was whispering sweet nothings in his ear. He knew, though, that it was anything but that. His bandleader needed to talk to him. Now! “Clark, this is becoming a few too many mistakes. Pull yourself together, dammit! Concentrate or we'll have to take a break.” All this was said with a most seductive smile, even though her sharp words didn't leave any room for doubt, let alone protest.

Clark just nodded, showing her he understood, and all the more concentrated on his bass. He closed his eyes, wanting to eliminate any outside distractions. Especially that one particular reporter, whose dismissive looks he could almost feel on him at that very instant. They were burning him. And he was relieved when Azzie let go of him.

“ _... Both head and heart_  
Set on the whole of things  
Watching from a distance  
Running against the stream  
At the same time there and not  
Inside and out all at once...” 

In his mind's eye he could see the pyrotechnics all around him explode in spectacular arcs of light. Saw them reflected in Lois Lane's eyes...

 

-°- ♫♫♫♪♫♪♫ ♫♫♫♪♫♪♫ -°-

 

It was almost like a dance. No, it was a dance, Egan realized suddenly.

And yet again, that wasn't quite correct, as it seemed that he had known about this a long time already – it was more like rediscovering. Like a lullaby that had been sung to one still too young to know it.

This here, though, was more rapid, more passionate. A charleston or tango, or a samba. Flowers. Oceans. Worlds. Whole galaxies were dancing to a rhythm which – and of this he was certain – not even a world-class dancer would be able to follow. Effortlessly, almost weightless. Constantly forming anew with the beat, collapsing back upon themselves, rearing up out of themselves.

At the same time mesmerized and stricken with fear, all Egan could do was watch. His eyes watering, but closing them was impossible. The all-consuming orange, amber, crimson had him under its spell.

And, through it all, the unearthly, steady crackling of fire...

 

-°- TBC -°-


End file.
